Have you...uh...

At one point in my long and illustrious college career, I thought I wanted to be a sign language interpreter. My very first American Sign Language class in college was taught by a Deaf man, Dennis -- who also happened to be gorgeous. New language. New culture. Distracting professor. Perfect.

As with any language, small nuances are all that separate one word or sign from another. A slight change in the orientation of one's hand, a raised eyebrow instead of a lowered one, or a tiny crook in a finger can completely change the meaning of what you're trying to convey.

And, as with any language, the things that stick with us most easily and permanently are the...uh...socially-unacceptable terms and phrases. The ones that could get you arrested, or even slapped in the face, if used in front of people fluent in the language.

Naturally, someone managed to expose me to a few of these, right before our midterm exam.



The scariest part of the midterm was going alone into the classroom to have a short, signed conversation with (gorgeous) Dennis. While our classmates waiting outside the room, each of us went inside, closed the door, and drew a small slip of paper from a hat. The slip of paper had a "conversation starter" typed on it, which was supposed to be the opening for a simulated social situation.

My turn finally came, and I entered the classroom, my nerves jangling. The slip of paper told me to state that I was hungry, then ask directions to the vending machines.

And, in my nervousness, I slightly modified one of the signs, making it one of those signs.

Instead of signing, "Have you eaten recently?" I signed, "Have you had sex recently?"

Dennis' eyes widened in disbelief. (Have I mentioned he was really good-looking?) My own mouth dropped open, and I turned beet-red with the realization of what I had just done. Yep. That question was definitely a conversation starter!

And...my sense of humor kicked in. I decided to plunge ahead: "Have you had sex recently? I'm horny [instead of hungry]. Do you know where the vending machines are?"

Then I sat back, batted my eyelashes sweetly, and tried to look innocent.

There was a beat of utter stillness. Then Dennis burst out laughing. Loudly. In fact, he roared -- literally. (Deaf people don't have volume control, generally speaking, because they can't hear themselves laugh.) It took us both several moments to regain our composures, wipe our tears of laughter dry, and get back to business.

"Would you like to try again?" Dennis signed, sniffling a little.

"Yes, please," I responded, struggling to keep a straight face.

I sailed through my second try *almost* flawlessly. Oddly, all of my initial nervousness had drained from my body, leaving my mind clear to do its (actual) work.

When I returned to the hallway, my classmates, who were nervously waiting for their own turns with Dennis, grabbed me as I opened the door. "What were you guys laughing at in there? What did you do?"

"I'll tell you later," I said. "You really don't want to go in there right now with two brand-new signs to show off."